Chapter 544 The Scar on the Shoulder
Benjamin left Valencia Inc. just as a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb.
The window rolled down and Isabella took off her sunglasses, gracing him with curved lips, "Ben, I was just passing by and thought I'd pick you up."
Benjamin, unfazed, opened the door and climbed into the car.
Seeing that neither had any further instructions, the driver started the vehicle and set off towards their destination.
Before returning to the United States, Benjamin had someone arrange to buy a villa in the city which was now fully prepared for immediate occupation.
As the car pulled up to the villa, the driver hopped out to fetch the luggage from the trunk.
Benjamin exited the car, his finely tailored suit pants exuding a blend of nobility and austerity with each step, as if drawing in all the light around him.
Daniel Copperfield stepped out of another car, walking hastily toward Benjamin with a look that halted the driver. With a pained expression, he turned to the CEO.
"Mr. Harrington, the property management just called. There's been a problem with the piping at the villa. Two connections are faulty and it's leaking a lot of water. It needs to be inspected and repaired."
"A leak?" Benjamin's face darkened instantly. "The issue is only being found now? What's the point of having a property management?"
Daniel wanted to ask that too!
He was nervous, his palms sweating. "I've already reprimanded them, but we won't be able to stay at the villa today... I'll arrange another hotel immediately. I apologize for the inconvenience."
They had planned to move into the villa that day and had checked out of the previous hotel that morning. Who would have expected such a last-minute issue?
Benjamin's brows were frosty, but despite his dissatisfaction, he had no choice but to accept the situation for now. He cast a cold glance at Daniel. "Let's make sure there are no more mistakes."
With that, Benjamin strode back into the car, resuming the same dignified posture as when he first exited the vehicle.
Isabella gave a polite nod to Daniel. "Thank you for handling this."
She then got into the car as well.
In contrast, the mood seemed to shift from the icy grip of winter to the promise of spring, lightening the chill in their hearts.
Daniel let out a deep sigh of relief, even wiping his brow of sweat that wasn't there.
…
The couple returned to the hotel.
Benjamin's displeasure was evident, his jaw set firm. Isabella, accustomed to his icy demeanor, was unaffected.
Side by side, they entered the hotel lobby while Daniel rushed ahead to check them in.
Benjamin's gaze narrowed at the sight of the key card. "Just one room?"
Daniel, caught in the midst of taking the card, froze. His voice trembled slightly, "The hotel... There's only one presidential suite left. Another room was booked right before us. I'm sorry, Mr. Harrington."
Benjamin's presence seemed frosted over, an intimidating aura extending far around him as he stared at the key card suspended in midair.
The hotel lobby was not crowded, but Benjamin's aristocratic presence, coupled with his superior demeanor, made him a figure that drew attention and gazes of onlookers wherever he went.
The spectacle was enough to draw the attention and interest of passersby.
He swept the room with a cold glance, exuding an air of superiority that silenced those around him and made people sheepishly retreat.
Daniel's arm was nearly cramping from holding up the key card, yet Benjamin did not reach out to take it.
"Come on, Benjamin," Isabella intervened as she gently took Benjamin's arm and deftly grasped the key card from Daniel's hand. With soothing tones, she provided an exit strategy, "Since it's like this, let's not bother Mr. Daniel any further. We can share a room."
Daniel felt like he was walking on thin ice but was utterly confused about why Benjamin seemed so bothered. After all, Benjamin and Isabella were an engaged couple; what was the big deal about sharing a room?
It didn't seem likely that someone like Benjamin, who appeared unbound by traditional formalities, would get so upset just because there was only one room left.
Recently assigned to Benjamin by the former Harrington CEO, Daniel was unaware of Benjamin's history, nor did he grasp the unique nature of this couple. Despite being labeled as fiancés, they hadn't even shared a single embrace.
Of course, that was also because Benjamin showed no interest.
Benjamin's expression did not soften much even with Isabella's words. His brows were furrowed, hands stuffed in his dress pants' pockets, and he showed no intention of heading upstairs. He disliked complications, especially those out of his control.
Now, it seemed, there wasn't a better option available.
He had chosen this hotel before arriving in the city, dismissing all others as unsatisfactory. In turn, this only added to his already sour mood, making his anger increasingly palpable.
With a resigned sigh, Isabella said, "Mr. Daniel, you can go back now; everything is fine here."
Daniel cautiously glanced at his boss. His expression was foul, yet he didn't vocally object. That probably was his tacit agreement to Isabella's suggestion that they share a room.
Only then did Daniel turn to leave, still under immense pressure.
"Benjamin..." Isabella was uncertain herself but tightened her grip on his arm ever so slightly, seeking some reassurance from the closeness. "The suite is large. I won't be in your way. Besides, we're engaged, and if you keep this up, people might think you're repulsed by me."
Benjamin glanced at her and then strode off with his tall, slender figure.
Isabella breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, she had managed to persuade him.
When they reached the room, Benjamin still looked upset. "You pick a room; I don't mind which one I get."
After he spoke, he turned and sat down on the couch.
Isabella didn't move but reached out her hand instead. "Ben, your hair has gotten dirty."
"Huh?" Benjamin, puzzled, reached up to feel his hair.
Indeed, his forehead's hair had somehow gotten a white powder stuck in it.
"Should I help you get it out?" Isabella asked, watching his face grow increasingly sour as if he was about to blow up any second.
And he wasn't far from it. Benjamin's irritation was nearly peaking when he said coldly, "No need."
Then he suddenly stood up and rushed into the bathroom.
The loud slam of the door made Isabella shiver involuntarily.
'Ben's mood seems especially off today. After all, it was just a trip to Valencia Inc., so there shouldn't have been any issues, right?'
In the bathroom, Benjamin had already stripped and was leaning against the washbasin, looking at himself in the mirror.
His bare torso was marked with scars, large and small, all reminders of a car accident three months ago.
The most severe scar was on his right shoulder—a circular mark, as though a chunk of flesh had been brutally removed. It was a stark sight.
According to the doctors, the injury resulted from a piece of glass that shattered during the accident and was lodged in him. This led to muscle necrosis, requiring the removal of the entire affected area of muscle tissue.
Now the scar was gradually healing.
Benjamin slowly raised his hand and pressed it against the scar. The feeling was blunt, but pain was no longer part of the sensation.
For some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that this particular scar didn't seem to come from the accident.
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